


Full Bunker, Full Hearts

by Tennyo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bobby/Mary, BroBondCC, Charlie/Jules, Cooking, Domestic, Gen, I hope y'all have somewhere warm and safe, In the bunker, Let Dean & Sam be happy for once!, Lots of Food, Mentioned side-ships:, Mentions of homelessness, Thanksgiving, charity - Freeform, happiness, maybe Jody/Donna?, with lots of food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 18:42:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16707946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tennyo/pseuds/Tennyo
Summary: The bunker is full of life, there's a holiday coming up, so Sam and Dean take the time off to enjoy it properly.There's food, and family, and happiness inside.





	Full Bunker, Full Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> This is set after 14x06, but ignoring Jack's Cough of Doom and passing out on the floor.

Rustling sounds come across the phone line while Sam listens, a notepad in hand. There’s a thud, and Sam thinks Jody must have dropped the phone. There’s some more rustling, and then, “Okay, so I found the biggest bird, twenty one pounds, and another at nineteen. Donna’s getting a ham, plus you said some of the hunters were going to try for some wild game?”

Sam writes down the turkey weights. “Yeah, not sure how successful they’ll be. Plus Dean’s scattered out three different teams to get the other stuff like potatoes, pie, and…” he glances at the list. “uh, yams?”

Jody doesn’t even miss a beat. “I’ll bring enough green bean casserole for the whole crowd, the birds, and some helping hands. Donna’s going to bring… some kind of dessert, I don’t remember, but I think it has marshmallows.”

The line beeps, and Sam checks the ID. “Gotta go, Dean’s beeping in. See you tomorrow?”

“Okay, I better get checked out, some old lady’s eyeballing my turkeys. See you!”

Clicking the line over, Sam says, “What’s up, Dean?”

 

Dean’s standing in the produce section of the Hastings Super Walmart. “How many 10-pound bags of potatoes are we supposed to get?” There’s a mom putting bananas into a produce bag about four paces away, the kid in the cart seat eating grapes straight out of the bag.

“I think three? Two sounds too few with the crowd we’re feeding, and there’s always leftovers.”

Hauling another bag into the cart, Dean waves over one of his shopping companions who found the cranberries. “Great, almost done here, then. Everything else holding up?”

“Yeah, Jody’s got the turkey, Donna’s bringing ham. Do you think Bobby’s actually going to catch anything by tomorrow?”

Dean almost hits another shopping cart, trying to steer with one hand while talking to Sam. He makes a quick turn down the baking aisle. “Depends. We’ve seen deer tracks, but it’s mostly farmland around the bunker. He’ll probably end up with a couple game birds or squirrels or something.”

There’s silence on the line, and a five pound bag of sugar goes in the cart. “Well, whatever they drag back, just remind them to take off their boots, OK? I’m tired of chasing after them with a broom and a mop.”

Sam huffs. “It was one time, and we had an injured hunter. Getting them help was more important than the floor, Dean.”

“Yeah, yeah. Hey Sam, I gotta round everyone up, I think Corey got sidetracked in electronics. Be back soon.” Dean ends the call and turns the cart toward electronics.

 

Cas and his group are the first to get back, and they unload their groceries under Sam’s watchful eye, making sure they’ll have room for everyone else’s hauls. They’re finally going to have the refrigerator at capacity when this is over, and the restaurant-grade grill, ovens, and stoves will be put to good use over the next couple of days. Cas has been standing too long looking at a bag of bread cubes, so Sam asks him what’s up.

“I don’t understand why someone would need to buy bread specifically designed to be used for ‘stuffing’ when it’s plentiful on its own, and would take very little preparation.”

Shaking his head, Sam takes the bag and puts it on a shelf. “The same reason we’re buying some of our pies. It’s a convenience, Cas. We’ll be feeding over thirty people Thursday, and that’s a lot of cooking.”

They’re almost finished then there’s a clamor from the main entrance. Sam goes to investigate, and Bobby’s hunting team is back in a celebratory mood.

“I take it you got more than some ground animals?” Sam asks.

Bobby grins at him. “We got us a whole hog, boy! Didn’t know there were wild pigs around here.”

Sam blinks. “I think they’re illegal to hunt, too. How big is it? Where are we going to cook it?”

“Already on it. A couple stayed behind to dress it, and we’re getting shovels to start on a fire pit. We’re looking at maybe a 300 pounder? There’ll be pork for days.” Bobby’s chest puffs up with that last sentence. Considering the effort that went into feeding the survivors in the other world, it’s no surprise he’s proud of their accomplishments.

“Yeah, I better call Donna and let her know we won’t need that ham, then,” Sam says.

Later, Mary’s crew arrives minutes before Dean’s, and the kitchen grows extra crowded. Dean gets distracted by the pies bought, two pecan and an enormous cheesecake. Plus, there’s the makings for other pies, cherry and apple fillings, including cans of pumpkin, plus packaged crusts. Sam basks in the strangely domestic chaos, before getting people to put everything away where it belongs.

Someone stopped at one of those warehouse clubs and purchased trays of lunch meats and cheeses, so nobody would have to worry about food throughout tomorrow while they prep for Thanksgiving. There’s a pot of soup warming on the stove, people are milling around, and Dean and Sam sit quietly amongst the chaos, side-by-side, sipping beer, eating sandwiches, and sharing a bag of chips between them.

* * *

 Wednesday morning starts with Bobby gathering a crew to collect wood for the firepit that will roast the pig overnight. Sam’s been temporarily banished from the kitchen, so he gathers some people to go find linens and extra chairs, and maybe a folding table or two so everybody can eat all at once at actual covered tables just like on TV.

In the kitchen, there’s the smell of sweet fruit and the sound of mixing as pies are prepared for baking. Mary’s carefully following a recipe for a chocolate pie, while Dean spoons apple filling into a prepared crust. Jack’s helping with the pumpkin pie filling when he asks, “Why are we still baking pies, when we could have bought them with the other things we got yesterday?”

Mary gives Dean a sideways look, like she’s thinking the same thing.

“Okay, look.” Dean wipes his hands on a hand towel, the careful lattice he’d been constructing left half finished for the moment. “I know you never actually baked us pies, mom. And pecan? Cheesecake? They’re a real pain in the ass. But apple? Cherry? Pumpkin? Those are simpler, especially when you buy the crusts ready to go.” He waves around the wrapper for the deep-dish pie crust he’s filled with a mixture of canned and hand-sliced apples.

“These people?” Dean gestures at some of the faces blinking at him. “All these people from the other world haven’t had a chance to sit and just relax for years. Hell, even though we’ve been living in the bunker since…” His brow scrunches as he thinks about it. “However long, we’ve been bouncing from one crisis to the next. So for once? Just once, I’d like to have some goddamn peace with the people I care about before the next apocalypse hits.”

He’s breathing a little heavily after that, and everyone’s just staring at him, some a little agape. Feeling the heat rising up his face, Dean gets back to finishing the lattice on his pie. “So everyone keep cooking.”

After a couple pies go in the oven, Jody arrives with Claire, Alex, and Patience in tow, all laden with grocery bags. Donna brings up the rear wheeling in a massive cooler. “The birds are here!” she enthusiastically calls with a huge grin.

Cas materializes from wherever he’s been holed up to help stash away the turkeys to finish thawing before prep and the oven tomorrow. After that, there’s more pie baking, more prep-work, and everyone stops for a break when they need one. When the day’s activity reaches a lull, Sam suggests anyone interested can pile into the war room for a movie or something, projected onto a sheet tacked to a far wall.

Dean immediately suggests _Die-Hard_ , which sets Sam’s eyes rolling. There’s a discussion about which movies were old enough to exist in both worlds, and what’s different. Jack is looking on Sam’s computer and says, “Dean, you like cowboys, right? This one’s on a list of movies set on Thanksgiving. It’s called _Brokeback Mountain_?”

Sam’s eyes flick to watch Dean, and he tries to hold back a laugh as his brother turns different shades of red, his face unable to settle on an expression somewhere in-between surprise, affront, and anger. Finally Dean’s face settles into a scowl. “I’m just gonna take myself and my beer somewhere else right now.”

Dean disappears before Sam lets his face break its composure and he snickers. Then, he has to explain to the rest of the room why that particular movie maybe isn’t the best choice for holiday entertainment. He starts them off with _A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving_ , and Dean slinks back into the room about fifteen minutes into _Miracle on 34th Street_.

Before they can start a new movie, Bobby comes in and says they need a volunteer to watch the pig pit overnight. Cas volunteers, since he doesn’t need to sleep anyway. The group breaks up then, people breaking into their own groups, Mary and Bobby slipping off together. Even though they’re underground, the time of day presses in, slowing thoughts and drooping eyes. Dean leans back in his chair and lets out a long, drawn out sigh as Sam dismantles the projection setup.

“You doing okay?” Sam asks.

“Yeah, just…” Dean gestures around the room. “People are kind of exhausting.”

Sam sits down in a chair across from his brother. “You’re the one who wanted to do a full Thanksgiving spread.”

“Why did I suggest that again? But no, I mean, when’s the last time we spent so long around so many people?” Dean rubs a hand down his face. “I mean, it’s nice in its own way, but it’s getting hard to find time alone in the shower.”

Sam nods, thoughtful. “It is nice, even though it’s required an adjustment period. You will get used to it Dean, I did.”

“Yeah, whatever, ‘Chief’.” Dean grunts as he stands up. “I’ve gotta get up early and get the turkeys ready for the oven, so ‘night.

“Good night, Dean.” Sam watches Dean lift his hand in salute as he disappears down the hallway. Looking around the room, he remembers when not that long ago, the bunker didn’t feel like home. A lot has changed since then.

* * *

Thursday morning starts with a flurry of activity, and a lot of coffee. Dean and Donna get the turkeys in the oven, with fancy digital thermometers attached to the fronts, just like Alton Brown. Someone starts a minor disagreement over whether a dish is called stuffing or dressing, until Dean says, “Stovetop calls it stuffing, and I’ll stuff it in my piehole.”

There’s green bean casserole, the thirty pounds of potatoes to make, and whatever Donna’s making that involves Jell-o and marshmallows. As the day progresses past morning, people take turns wandering in to give their opinions on how carrots should be cut, what should go in the stuffing, how best to season mashed potatoes, and more.  Dean just keeps himself floating with beers and the occasional glass of wine when Jody cracks open a bottle. He still has to make sure dinner isn’t a disaster, so Dean stays away from anything stronger. Until dinner, at least.

Sam’s been avoiding the kitchen as much as he can, but when Bobby announces the pig is coming out of the pit, he know it’s time to get things ready. Out come the plates, and silverware, and napkins, actual drinking glasses for things other than alcohol, and whatever he can find to use as trivets for when they get the dishes on the tables. The map table is converted to a sort-of buffet table, and the turkey will go on one end with the pork on the other. Dinner rolls, the giant vat of mashed potatoes, and a couple other dishes should fit there as well. Everything else gets scattered among the various flat surfaces he can find.

Bobby comes in with a huge tray piled high with shreds and hunks of pork, so Sam sends someone to the kitchen for the turkey. Food starts appearing on tables, and soon everyone is assembled. The hunters from the other world, Mom, Dean, Cas, Jack, Jody and Donna and the girls, they’re all there, and Sam gets a little emotional.

This is what he wanted when he was a kid. Okay, maybe not this many people, but people who cared about each other, all gathered together to share a meal and give thanks. He closes his eyes, swallows, and takes a deep breath. “Okay guys, looks like the food’s all ready. I just want to say that… that it’s great seeing all of us together like this. The bunker was meant to house the Men of Letters, but it wasn’t meant to sit empty, or to house just a couple of hunters and the occasional angel.” Sam glances over at Cas, who’s off to the side but paying attention, one corner of his lips curving up in a small smile.

“Until all of you came along, I thought Dean and I were cursed to be alone. But there’s one thing that we were taught years ago,” He looks over at Bobby, not the same man who was like a father to them, but close enough for his heart to hurt. “Family don't end in blood. You all prove that, and I’m, uh, just really glad to have you as part of my family.”

Some people actually clap, and Sam doesn’t know where to look, so instead he stares down at the beer in his hand. Dean interrupts the moment with, “Alright, that’s enough, time to eat!” and everyone digs in.

The pile of pork gets replenished, the second turkey is brought out, and eventually dinner slows. Full and sated, the conversations turn softer, less loud, except for the occasional bark of laughter. Sam could fall asleep in his chair if he weren’t afraid that he’d wake up to discover this was all some strange fever-dream. Next to him, after swiping up the last of the gravy on his plate with a chunk of bread, Dean claps his hands, pushes out his chair, stands up and says, “All right, who’s ready for pie?”

Dean is loving life right now. He’s in good company, the food is great if he says so himself, and the pie. Oh, man, he’s never had this many different kinds of pie outside of a buffet. He only wishes he had room for more, as he forces himself to eat the last forkful of pecan pie from his plate. Sam looks like he’s asleep with his eyes open, Jody and Donna are tipsy and leaning on each other, and some of the hunters have wandered off, probably to sleep off the food coma. But there’s still leftovers to be put away, so Dean pops the button on his pants, and rocks himself out of his chair to get started.

He’s a little surprised to see Cas in the kitchen, putting food into large containers, with Jack and Alex helping. “Hey guys, what’s up?”

“Dean,” Cas puts a lid on an obscene amount of mashed potatoes, turning to face him. “I was going to take some of the left-over food to those who aren’t as fortunate to have such abundance.”

The days of leftovers Dean had planned evaporate with Cas’ words. “Yeah, sure. Just, uh, leave enough for a few servings, okay? There’s a hunting team still out there, who should be showing up soo, they’d be pissed if they missed out.”

Jack answers, “We’ve already prepared some meals and they’re in the refrigerator for anyone who might be hungry later.”

Oh. Dean looks around at the containers already packed, and how much food is still left. “Yeah, okay. Someone come and get me when you’re done so I can round up some help for cleanup.” He heads back into the war room, and drops back into his chair next to Sam, rousing him.

“Hey, Dean. Was it everything you imagined it would be?”

Dean huffs. “And more. Cas is busy cannibalizing my leftovers for the homeless or something.”

They sit in silence for a while, remembering holidays as children without Dad, or with Dad, eating KFC instead of turkey, or something from a can. Dean also remembers when he told Cas he couldn’t stay, after the guy had been living homeless for months. Nope, he’s gotta learn to look past the mistakes, and try to fix the future.

“Well, Sammy, I’m gonna go slip into a food coma.”

Sam nods, and groans as he stands up. “Yeah, I promised I’d work on cleanup so I guess I should get started.”

“Yeah, I’ll send people your way if I catch them in the hall.”

“Thanks, Dean.”

Dean pats Sam on the shoulder. “We did good, didn’t we?”

With a smile, Sam returns the gesture. “Yeah, we did.”

After clearing the tables, Sam starts by hauling all the table covers to the laundry room. He wasn’t expecting anyone int here, so he’s startled to find a shock of red hair belonging to Charlie, who seems to be engaged in some heavy making out with someone sitting on the washing machine. Sam clears his throat, loudly. Charlie jumps back, revealing a slightly rumpled Jules.

“Can’t you do this in your own room?” Sam sighs, setting down the pile of linens.

Jules rolls her eyes. “Some of us have to share, and someone’s roommate,” Jules stares at Charlie, “is extra judgmental.”

“I think there’s a storage room that’s open, second door from the garage?” I’ll meet you there.” Charlie gives Jules a quick peck on the lips and a pat to her behind as Jules slips out the door. She turns to Sam with a grin. “You said I should try, right? This is me trying.”

“I’m happy for you, and I’ll talk to someone about the room situation okay?”

Charlie’s grin widens. “You’re the best!” and she chases Jules out the door.

Sam smiles as he loads the washer. Things are looking up, and he’s trying to see the actual good, instead of waiting for the next shoe to drop. They know that Michael’s out there, and he’s super-charging monsters, but just for today, things can be good. By the time he makes it back out to the war-room, someone’s already cleared the away all the dirty dishes. In the kitchen, there’s an odd assembly line of people scraping plates, rinsing, and loading the dishwasher. He stares at the activity for a moment, before one of the guys turns to him.

“Hey, we got started on this, hope you don’t mind?”

“Yeah, sure.” Sam quickly recovers. “Everything under control?”

“Food’s put away, dishes are getting cleaned, I think we got it.”

“Okay, if you need me, I’ll be in my room.”

“Sure thing, Chief.”

Back in his room, Sam flops down on his bed. He’s a little dazed, but… happy. With a smile, he lets himself fall into a food-induced nap.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I was so happy to see there was a true Platonic Brothers challenge out there, where I won't have to dodge the obvious cringe.  
> Hope you enjoy!  
> Feel free to tell me what you think!


End file.
